


I've Got Four Eyes For You

by lawled



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dating, Friends to Lovers, Lacrosse Player Derek, M/M, Nerd Stiles, Oneshot, Porn With Plot, Smut, Stiles Wears Glasses, Wooing, barely any plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:23:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4283589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lawled/pseuds/lawled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is just trying to get through senior year in one piece while juggling AP classes, college applications, and jerks on the lacrosse team calling him "four eyes". But a certain lacrosse captain has other plans for Stiles. </p><p>(OR where popular!Derek Hale wants nerdy!Stiles)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got Four Eyes For You

Stiles has spent the last 3 years of high school with the same motto in his head: stay low, stay sane, stay smart. He has lived in this perfect bubble for years, and although he gets a few more worried looks from his dad than he would like, Stiles knows he is doing this whole “high school thing” perfectly. Social life? Check. Scott McCall has been his best friend since the 1st grade. He swears he doesn’t need anyone else. Good grades? Sorted. Stiles could have graduated with a 4.4 GPA his junior year. So senior year will be mostly college credit—AP French Lit, AP Latin 4, AP European History, and AP Calculus. Extracurricular? Let’s be real. Math League, Science Olympiad, and French Conversation wouldn’t have gone National the last 3 years if Stiles wasn’t there.

            So, Stiles thinks, as he walks through the crowded cafeteria of Beacon Hills by himself, everything is basically perfect. Totally laid out for the future. A-Okay. He only has 1 year left, after all, so nothing should rock the boat.

            So Stiles is a little dumbfounded, to say the least, when he walks up to see none other than Derek Hale, captain of the lacrosse team, sitting at his lunch table. Eating his lunch. With Scott. His only friend.

            “Uhhhh…” Stiles mutters as he reaches the table. “Are you lost?” He looks pointedly at Derek. The only reason the captain of the nit-wits would be sitting with someone like Stiles would be for his impending humiliation.

            Derek looks up at him, unamused, but then continues eating like Stiles hadn’t just asked a question. Oh, hell no. Now it’s Stiles’ turn to be unamused.

            “Well excuse me, I didn’t know I was going to be eating with Queen Derek today,” he said, lunch bag down on table and hand thrown on hip. “Do you want me to get you some tea? A scone? No, no, let me run outside and grab a leaf so I can fan yo—“

            “STILES!” Scott intervenes, messaging his temples as though trying to prevent a Stiles-induced headache. “Chill out. I’m helping Derek with his chem lab.”

            “Oh.” Stiles deflates, scratching his temple. He catches a glance towards Derek, an infamous death glare directed right at him. “Well, in that case..” he suddenly feels very awkward. “I’ll just go study in the library,” he looks between Scott and Derek. “I wouldn’t want to, you know. Interrupt this very important study sesh.”

            With one last sheepish look, he grabs his lunch bag and scurries out of the lunchroom, silently asking the universe why he's both simultaneously socially awkward AND a loud-mouth.

\----

Stiles’ week goes on as normal after that, if not even better than usual because of the college admission letters he sent out to Yale and Harvard during the weekend. Hopefully, in the spring, he’d be getting acceptance letters back, fingers crossed. Stiles WAS ranked number 1 in the school, after all, narrowly beating a bitter Lydia Martin for class Valedictorian. Stiles thinks about this smugly, as he pushes his black-rimmed glasses further up his nose and walks into his first period class.

 AP French Lit was a class he had with both Lydia and Kira, two of the smartest girls who attended Beacon Hills. Not only smart, but popular as well, so they had the best of both worlds.

Stiles was only a little intimidated.

Usually Stiles sat in the front right corner of the classroom, keeping to himself and reading over the syllabus for the day’s work. Nobody was eager to talk to the smart-ass kid who was basically taking AP classes for fun. Save for the occasional death glare from Lydia, nobody paid him any notice.

Except, when he walks in, he sees Lydia and Kira sitting behind and beside his usual seat. Like they’re cornering him. And Stiles has déjà vu from last week when his normalcy was disrupted by Derek sitting at his lunch table.

But this time, Stiles thinks, be casual. There is probably a perfectly rational explanation for this, and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself like last time. Maybe they couldn’t see the board, maybe Mrs. Fordman decided to switch seats. Maybe Greenburg didn’t shower again and tried sitting next to them—

“Are you okay, Stilinski?” Danny’s voice sneers behind him, bumping his shoulder to take a seat. Stiles stumbled forward.

Danny snorts. “Geez, with Four Eyes I would think you’d watch where you’re going better.”

Stiles just glares and takes his seat. Stupid lacrosse players and their stupid body masses and their STUPID—

“Hey Stiles!” He hears a sweet voice say beside him. Kira is looking at him shyly, and Stiles, slightly surprised, jerkily nods in her direction.

Smooth Stiles. Smooth.

“So, Stilinski,” Lydia starts, long fingernails playing with a loose thread on his sweater. “I know we’ve had our differences with the whole “Valedictorian” thing,” She says sweetly, moving her hand in a motion like it’s no big deal. “But as you may know, I’m throwing myself a birthday party this Saturday.”

Stiles’ eyes widen. “Uhhh.. no. Well—yea, I guess I’ve heard some people talking about it”.

Lydia rolls her eyes. “More like the whole school’s been talking about it.” She flips her red, fiery hair over her shoulder. “But I expect you there 8 o’clock Saturday night.”

Stiles stutters, “Wait—“

“And I know you got this ‘private school nerd’ thing going on,” she says, eyeing him up and down, focusing on his skinny khakis especially. “But try going for hipster on Saturday. It’ll look good on you, especially with those glasses.”

Lydia turns towards Kira with an evil smirk before the teacher starts quieting them down.

“He is going to love me for doing this.”

\----

“Dude, why the hell did I get asked to go to Lydia’s party on Saturday?” Stiles asks as soon as Scott lets him into his house for Friday Game Night. “Last time I checked, I was hated by everyone in Beacon High.” He plops down on the couch. “Well, besides you. Hopefully.”

Scott sits beside him and gives him a look. “I don’t know man. But Kira invited me today so.. I’ll be there.”

Stiles sat up straight. “Have you been talking to Kira? Popular Kira? And you haven’t TOLD me?”

Scott holds his hands up in fake surrender. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up! But ever since I started tutoring Derek in chem, he’s been putting in a good word for me so.” Scott smirks. “I think I may have a shot.”

“Dude.” Stiles punches him playfully on the shoulder. “Fuck you for not telling me sooner, but I’m happy for you.”

After they pop some popcorn and order the pizza, Scott is getting is play station set up and pauses before he says, “So.. Derek Hale will be there.”

Stiles has a charming amount of popcorn stuffed in his mouth before he stutters, “Uhh. Okay.” While shrugging. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

“No, no, I guess not.” Scott backtracks quickly. “He just seems like he’s your type, is all.”

Sure, Stiles can admit Derek Hale is definitely attractive.

 And Stiles is definitely gay, the last time he has checked.

Stiles would be lying if he said he has never fantasied about Derek Hale. He was known around the school as a heartthrob and hero of the lacrosse team after trying out for first line sophomore year and earning them the title of state champs. Besides the permanent glare on his face, as far as Stiles knew, Derek was a lot nicer than most of the kids on the team. He mostly kept to himself but still upheld his social status by hanging out with his teammates and their friends.

Hell, who wouldn’t fantasize about Derek Hale?

But last time he checked, Derek Hale would NEVER go for someone like Stiles. In fact, he was pretty sure he hated Stiles for absolutely no reason at all.

“I’m pretty sure Derek HALE would never go for Stiles Stilinski. Besides, all he does is glare at me like he’s planning my murder.”

Scott shakes his head as he hands Stiles a controller.

“Whatever man. Too bad there wasn’t an AP class about not being hopelessly oblivious.”

\---

Later that night, when Scott had passed out on the ground next to him, his phone buzzes in his outstretched hand. Thinking it’s Kira, and being the nosey little asshole he is, Stiles grabs for it but sees something entirely different.

>>TEXT MESSAGE<<

From: DH

R u sure he’s actlly going to show up on Sat??

\---

            2 hours before Scott is picking him up for Lydia’s party, Stiles is hopelessly confused. He has plenty of khakis, button-down shirts, and cream sweaters, but he’s pretty sure none of these options fit the “hipster” vibe Lydia told him to go for. Why the hell is he even listening to Lydia?

Derek Hale will be there, his heart and dick say.

Shut the hell up, his head says.

            So Stiles looks way back into his closet and comes up with the best he can: an old printed tee he hasn’t worn since middle school, paired with a wrinkled red flannel he doesn’t think he has EVER worn. He puts on his skinny khakis to keep some sense of normalcy, but puts on his old black converse.

            Stiles feels like a 12 year old boy.

            He hears Scott’s car horn outside, so he quickly pushes back his hair, looks in the mirror one last time, and grabs his phone and wallet before heading out.

            And, because fuck it, he runs back in to throw on a grey cardigan because it’s COLD and Lydia can yell at him later for all he cares.

\---

Lydia, in fact, doesn’t yell at him, but eyes him up and down like he’s a piece of meat.

“Well well well, there may be more to you then just brains after all, Stilinski.” She tuts while pouting. “It’s too bad you were already claimed.” She pats him on the cheek and walks away.

“ohhhhhh kay then.” Stiles mutters as he starts finding his way through the crowds of people at Lydia’s house. As he winds his way through drunk teenagers, and the rave he is pretty sure is going on in the living room, he ends up holding a cup full of something that looks like beer but smells like something stronger.

            He takes a sip and yep. It’s definitely something stronger.

            Being as socially awkward as Stiles is, he drinks by himself on the back patio until he feels a little buzzed. Scott and Kira left him a while ago, and although Scott looked a little apologetic, Stiles wanted them to have a good time.

            The few people who were out on the back porch with him start making out, and Stiles wonders if Lydia has any pets he can go socialize with when—

            “Hey.” An unfamiliar voice says beside him.

            Stiles glances up, a little startled, to see Derek looking at him intently. “Oh. Hey.”

            Derek eyes Stiles up and down, looking a little breathless. Was Derek Hale checking him out?

            “I didn’t know you would come. This isn’t normally your scene.” Derek says, continuing his gaze.

            Stiles doesn’t know where to look and he starts to feel hot all over. “Well, it’s normally not, but.” He shrugs.

            “I didn’t even think Lydia was your friend.” Derek added.

            “Yea, well, Lydia can be pretty persuasive when she wants to be.” Derek raises his eyebrows. “No! Sorry, that sounded wrong. Not like that.” Stiles closes his eyes in frustration. “Scott really wanted to go too, so. I thought, why not?”

            Stiles opens his eyes and sees Derek staring at him fondly. He steps a little closer to Stiles. “Well.. I’m glad you came.”

            He swallows. “…Really? I actually thought you didn’t like me—“

            Derek comes even closer, grabbing the patio ledge on each side of Stiles, trapping him in.

            “You’re just… really intimidating, Stiles.” Derek bites his lip. “And I’ve had a crush on you since middle school that my friends have found out about, and they’ve helped me find the courage to actually talk to you.”

            Stiles’ eyes widen. “Seriously? You’ve been crushing on me? Let me tell you, dude, you could have started talking to me a while ago and I would have been totally dow—“

            That’s when Derek shut Stiles up. With his lips. Derek Hale, King of the school, captain of a SPORTS team was kissing Stiles so fiercely. With TONGUE.

            Stiles can’t help the involuntary moan that escapes his mouth as Derek’s hand finds its way up his shirt.

            Derek pulls away with a gasp. “Do you want to go somewhere a little more private?”

            Stiles nods reverently. “But just so you know, this is my first everything basically,” he says somewhat ashamedly. “And I really hope my virgin-ass is becoming a regular ass for more than one night, because—“

            “Stiles.” Derek interrupts. “I want this. I want a relationship with you. This isn’t a one-night thing. If you’re not ready, we’ll just make out a little more. It’s okay.”

            Stiles smiles up at Derek. “I will definitely take note of your chivalry later, but tonight I need you to have sex with me.” Derek’s eyes turn dangerously dark. “Actually, I’ve needed you to have sex with me, like, 5 minutes ago.”

            Derek picks up Stiles, his legs hooking around his torso. “This is your first time,” Derek says, in his ear. “I’m making it a night to remember.”

\---

            Stiles moans breathlessly on his stomach, clutching the sheets in front of him as Derek puts a pillow under his crotch to lift up his ass.

            “You’re going to love this, baby.” Derek says, as he spreads Stiles’ legs out, getting in between them.

            Stiles feels a kiss on one cheek, and then the other, before he spreads them apart to view Stiles fully. He blows on Stiles’ hole, encouraging another moan out of Stiles.

            “So eager, baby. So beautiful.”

            Stiles ruts the pillow on instinct. “A-Are you going to finger me?”

            Derek presses down on where he is holding his cheeks apart, making him stop humping the pillow.

            “Something better, baby.”

            Stiles has little time to think before Derek’s tongue is in Stiles, fucking into him mercilessly.

            “Shit,” Stiles moans, as he grasps at the sheets around him. Derek’s skillful tongue teases his rim, circling it, before plunging back in. Pretty soon Stiles feels as though he is a puddle, Derek moaning in time with him, sending vibrations through his body.

            “You taste so good,” Derek says breathlessly as Stiles feels his finger prodding his entrance. “Is this okay?”

            “Yes,” Stiles whimpers, needing Derek soon before he was bursting at the seams.

            Derek starts with one finger, pumping it in and out of Stiles slowly. He feels a slight burn, but it quickly fades to pleasure.

            “More, more, please,” he pants, as Derek adds another. “Ahh, Derek, please—“

            “Hold on, baby. I want to make sure you’re ready.”

            Pretty soon Derek has three fingers pumping in and out of Stiles.

            “I’m ready, please please Derek,” he cries, panting in time with Derek’s thrusts.

            Derek slides his fingers out, rolls on a condom and slicks up his dick with lube. He pours some directly on Stiles’ hole, making him gasp. Very slowly, Derek enters Stiles with tiny thrusts until he is balls deep.

            “You okay?” Derek asks, petting Stiles’ hair.

            “Just give me a second,” he responds. The dull ache in his ass slowly changes to pleasure as he gives Derek the okay to keep going.

            Derek thrusts at a steady pace, keeping his cheeks spread apart to he can see himself push in and out of Stiles. Stiles pants grow stronger as his dick rubs against the pillow underneath him.

            All of a sudden though, Derek grabs him from the stomach and pulls him up so he is on his hands and knees, still keeping a steady rhythm. That’s when Derek’s dick goes deep enough to hit Stiles’ prostate.

            “There we go,” Derek says as Stiles screams out in pleasure. Pretty soon Derek is hitting that sweet spot over and over again until—

            “Derek, I-I’m g-going to..” Stiles says, moaning.

            “Come, baby. Come without me touching your dick.”

            And Stiles does.

\---

            As they sit in the afterglow, Derek hugging him around his back, none other than Lydia Martin walks in, pissed off with hands on her hips.

            “I’m happy for you guys, but seriously? Go fuck in someone else’s bed, you motherfuckers.”

 

 


End file.
